Just beyond the barbed wire and the craggy trees that fringe our home, layer upon layer of honeyed fields (like sweet baklava) roll away into the unfettered sky. I can already see our children worming their way under the fence to dart across the hollow and disappear into the untamed copse. Who knows what rusty treasures will be found among the brambles, what forts will be fashioned from branches.
How blessed we are—that my desire to live in the country should be wed to my husband’s calling to teach: God found us a house on the brink of this prairie town, a mere walk away from Nick’s college, yet cradled to the bosom of a farmer’s field. We’ve space for a garden, for a small orchard, for a fire pit around which laughter and stories can be shared beneath starlight. And trees enough for a hammock and a swing, for hideaways and sun-dappled tea parties. We may even be able to sneak a few chickens into the back corner. Possibly a goat. At least a cat.
Here, I can breathe. I can also walk down the street to a friend’s house or the church where Christ is ever waiting. We may have discovered the best of both worlds.
When we left Prince Edward Island, we had no clue what God had in store for us. We only knew that moving west was the one option that brought us both peace and joy. Day by day, God is confirming that our decision wasn’t merely a gamble or a spontaneous adventure—it was a leap of trust, which He is rewarding abundantly. Looking over my shoulder, I am beginning to see a path emerge from the seemingly random stepping stones that continue to appear ahead. Unexpected this path may be, but not meaningless. Every time we take a deep breath and step forward onto the next stone, the last one suddenly makes a little more sense—and we are encouraged to continue embracing God’s will, whatever may come.
Today, what I see before me are trees inked on faded blue parchment, a black cat with green eyes stealing across the grass, finches in the dirt, snowflakes teasing the spring—and I know God called us into the unknown to give us a home.